


Out of Control

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [14]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: He finds Len standing motionless in the middle of the room, hands clenched into fists and brow furrowed. Once, seeing him in such a stance would have made Barry tread carefully for fear of overwhelming him with affection. Now, he feels comfortable stepping to his side and embracing him. “Hey. Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?”He’s not prepared for Len’s fingers to wrap around his throat. He doesn’t realize quickly enough to drop into Flashtime. The next thing he knows, he’s against the wall, Len’s hand tight around his throat.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571482
Comments: 22
Kudos: 122





	Out of Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minny16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minny16/gifts).



> For minny16, who requested drugged or whammied Len lashing out at Barry and then blaming himself (feat. the Legends in some capacity). This is a terrible, horrible, no good very bad fic. While whammied, Len chokes and hits Barry and yells at the twins, and even though he's not acting of his own volition, it's distressing and bad. 
> 
> Chronologically, because this series time-hops a bit, the twins are probably about eight, so this takes place between chapters 2 and 3 of Teach Your Children (which is why I'm putting it after that fic - you'll need the context for ADHD-with-RSD!Nora and nonbinary little Mick).

The Legends coming back into town is always an event worthy of celebration. Everyone turns up at STAR Labs for a celebration that will last long into the night. This is, to Barry’s amazement, the first time the Legends have seen the twins. 

“Congratulations, both of you!” Sara clasps him and Len in a hug. “I mean, Gideon sent us the news that they were born, which was kinda cute…”

“How did Gideon know about the…?” Barry decides he doesn’t want to know. Despite being confined to the Time Vault, Gideon is nosy. For all he knows, she keeps up on the daily paper and saw the twins’ birth announcement. 

“Little Mick! Little Blue!” Len beckons the twins over. They pause to give Lily’s tiny Jefferson a kiss on the cheek; then they scamper to his side, beaming. “You two have never met your Aunt Sara. She’s the captain of a time ship.”

“Oh.” Nora looks her up and down. “This is the wicked captain who stole our Abba away from his Rogues.” 

Barry splutters. Sara’s eyes widen. Len just rolls his eyes and laughs. “The Rogues have opinions about how long I was in the time stream. I think certain little people might do well to not take every word Lisa says quite so literally.”

“No, that was Uncle Mick,” she says. 

At that, Sara just laughs. “Of course it was. Well, yes, hi. I’m Sara, and I’m the person who took over for the original wicked captain who stole your Abba—and your Uncle Mick.” 

“I’m Nora.” She holds out a tiny chubby hand. “And this is little Mick. We have to call them that anytime Uncle Mick is in the room.” 

Sara grins. “Well, pleased to meet you, Nora and little Mick.”

Little Mick huddles closer to Sara’s arm and whispers, “Your team has a ‘they’ on it, like me and Axel!” 

At that, they all glance over to Charlie, who’s flirting relentlessly with Iris, a blushing Cisco, and an utterly besotted Zari. Barry isn’t at all surprised to see Iris giving as good as she’s getting, to Eddie’s mortification. “We do,” Sara agrees. “Do you want to go meet them?” 

Little Mick squirms happily. “Oh yes please!” 

While Sara and little Mick go over to talk to Charlie, Nora pats Barry’s arm. “I wanna go say hi to Grandpa Martin.” 

“But you see Grandpa Martin all the time,” Barry says, bewildered. Stein retired from the Legends after the Earth-X debacle where, were it not for the stabilizing presence of both Jax and Ronnie, he might have died. “Don’t you want to meet the Legends while they’re here?”

She pouts. “I wanna go see Grandpa Martin, Papa.” 

“I’ll take her.” Len scoops her up and gives her a kiss on the cheek. She purrs contentedly. “You go catch up with whoever you want to catch up with, Scarlet.” 

Barry gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have fun.”

“Gross,” Nora complains as she’s carried away. Barry is still close enough to hear Len’s murmured “Thanks for that.”

Barry loses track of time talking to Ray, Nora Darhk, and Nate, who are collectively all over each other. He’s in the midst of an enthralling story about some Shakespearean shenanigans when Sara taps his elbow. “Hey Barry, who’s the guy in the secret agent sunglasses talking to Len?”

Barry turns. From this angle, he can only see the guy’s back, but ‘secret agent’ is right: he has dark hair, dark clothes, and an ominous-looking dark jacket. “I don’t know. I kind of assumed he was one of yours?”

Sara shakes her head, and there are choruses of “Nope” from Ray, Nora, and Nate. “We assumed he was one of yours,” Ray adds cheerfully. 

Well, that’s not good. As Barry watches, the man reaches up, tips his sunglasses—in farewell? Is it because he lacks a hat to tip?—and heads for the door. Barry could apprehend him, but he’s more worried about Len. “Um, I should…I should go check on Len.”

He slips across the room to Len’s side. “Hey, Len, who was that?” 

“Why does it matter?” Len’s voice is curt, more Captain Cold than Barry’s partner. He fights not to flinch. This happens sometimes when Len has a conversation that doesn’t go his way; it’s nothing to be alarmed by.

“It’s nothing, I just didn’t recognize him.” He looks for the twins. Little Mick is leaning on Charlie’s shoulder, apparently half-asleep; Nora is still chatting with Stein and Jax. “It’s probably time to go home—the twins should be in bed soon.” 

“You’re right.” Len’s arm loops comfortably around his waist. “I’m sorry for snapping, Scarlet. That was just Rogues business.”

“Then why do it at STAR Labs?” The Rogues have any number of safehouses, some of which are specifically designed as meeting places for people outside of the core Rogues. STAR Labs is far more vulnerable than any of those locations. 

“How should I know?” Len snaps. “He sought me out.” 

“Okay.” Barry disentangles himself from Len’s hold to scoop little Mick away from Charlie. They exchange a little wave—sleepy on Mick’s part, shockingly shy on Charlie’s—before Barry carries them away. “Early bedtime for all of us tonight, I think.”

When they get home, Barry takes the twins to oversee their bedtime routine. If Len is as bitter as he seems over the Rogue business that didn’t go his way, he won’t want to be around the twins. (He still considers himself a danger to them when his temper is high. Barry doesn’t, but he can respect why Len thinks that.) “Did you have good talks?”

Mick nods. “Charlie is so cool! They’re a Fate, that’s what they told me, but they believe in free will so they destroyed the Loom and then they went on the run and now they’re with the Legends and they’re in love with Zari but also they feel bad because they think Zari just loves them for the shape they’re in now…”

Nora elbows them. _“I_ talked to Grandpa Martin about going to the synagogue with them, like we’ve wanted to since we were bitty!” 

Barry covers a smile. They’re still bitty, but he knows what she means; they’ve wanted to go to the synagogue since they were told what it was. Len isn't sure if he'll go with them (too many memories, he says), but he's more than willing to let them go with the Steins. 

Mick elbows her in return. “And _I_ wasn’t finished talking about Charlie!” 

“Ah-ah-ah.” Barry nudges them apart. “No elbowing or hitting or otherwise hurting each other. Both of your conversations were very important, and there will be time to talk about both of them—tomorrow, after you sleep. Now come on, let’s get into our cozy pajamas.” 

He supervises the twins while they bundle into their pajamas. Nora clambers up the ladder to the top bunk; taking the top bunk was the only way she’d consent to not sleeping in the same bed as Mick. For all their earlier squabbling, Mick is quick to blow kisses up at her. 

“Sleep well, little ones.” Barry closes the door on them and wanders out to the living room. He finds Len standing motionless in the middle of the room, fists clenched and brow furrowed. Once, seeing him in such a stance would have made Barry tread carefully for fear of overwhelming him with affection. Now, he feels comfortable stepping to his side and embracing him. “Hey. Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” 

He’s not prepared for Len’s fingers to wrap around his throat. He doesn’t realize quickly enough to drop into Flashtime. The next thing he knows, he’s against the wall, Len’s hand tight around his throat. 

“What’s wrong?” Len snarls. “What’s wrong is I haven’t had a moment’s peace in ten fucking years! You’re always in my space, in my face, running that stupid fucking mouth of yours, it’s enough to drive any man crazy!” He tightens his grip until it’s impossible to draw a breath. Barry gasps futilely and scrabbles at the back of his hand. 

“Len…”

“Shut your whore mouth!” His free hand cracks across Barry’s face. It’s wrong, it’s all wrong. Barry puts on a burst of speed and, without thinking, tries to get away. The lingering grip of Len’s hand on his throat tugs him off-course. Rather than run down the hall, as he meant to, he’s sent crashing into the coffee table. Pain bursts through his leg and he falls.

“Don’t you run away from me,” Len snarls. When he turns, Barry sees a glint of red in his eyes. 

_Bivolo._ The man in the sunglasses must have been Roy Bivolo. Why he would whammy Len, when by all accounts they’re usually friendly with each other, doesn’t add up, but it must be. It also means Barry needs to get to STAR Labs and unearth the portable anti-Bivolo-whammy device from the archives. 

“Abba?” No. No, no, no, not the twins. “What’s going on?”

Len wheels on the twins, who are standing beside the sofa in utter bewilderment. “‘Abba, what’s going on?’” he mimics in a horrible, icy tone. “Why so many fucking _questions?_ You need to learn to shut your spoiled little fucking mouth until you’re old enough to have a scrap of intelligence between you!” 

Both twins flinch. Nora’s eyes well up with tears. “Abba?” she asks again in a tiny, broken voice. 

“Enough!” Barry bolts to his feet. Pain shoots out from his wounded calf, but he doesn’t spare it a thought. Instead, he runs across the room, gathers little Mick into his arms, and catches Nora’s hand. She adjusts to Flashtime instantly. “Run, baby, run with me.” 

By the time they reach one of the Rogues’ safe houses, Nora is crying so hard she can barely run. Barry deposits them on the sofa and calls, “Anybody, help!” 

In an instant, they’re swarmed by concerned Rogues. Axel hops over the back of the sofa and gathers the twins in their arms. Shawna appears in a puff of shadow, sees the twins crying, and perches beside Nora. Lisa clatters down the stairs, hair tangled, and demands, “What happened?”

“Roy Bivolo whammied Len,” Barry explains breathlessly. 

Lisa’s face hardens. Then Nora calls out, “Auntie Lisa!” and she rushes to the sofa. 

“Babies. Oh, what happened to my pretty babies?” She swipes tears from Nora’s round little cheeks. 

“Abba says we’re stupid and bad!” Nora bursts into a fresh bout of sobbing. Every Rogue turns shocked eyes to Barry. He can’t stay and explain, or even comfort the twins—he needs to help Len before anyone else gets hurt. 

“I have to go.” He directs this to Mick, who’s just stepped into the room. Mick grunts acknowledgment. 

“So that little red-eyed weasel got Snart too?”

“Wait, you saw Bivolo?”

Mick grunts. “Waited for me outside STAR Labs to thank me for Snart’s decision not to let him in the Rogues. Don’t think he took into account that getting me mad means a fist to the face. He whammied me. I got him right back.” 

“I can reverse the whammy,” Barry explains. “But I have to get to STAR Labs and then back to Len.”

Mick nods and jerks his head at the twins, who are surrounded by cooing Rogues. “Go. We’ll take care of tiny Snarts until it’s safe.” 

Barry bolts to STAR Labs. The archives are so full and cluttered that it’s no easy matter to locate the device, even at superspeed. By the time he returns to the apartment, several minutes have passed. He’s just in time to stop Len from storming out the door. 

“No.” He grabs Len and runs him onto the sofa. While he’s still dazed from being sped inside, Barry pulls out the device and lets the lights flash. He can tell they’ve worked when Len lurches off the sofa with a sharp, desperate cry. 

“No, no, no, no, no, Scarlet, no—”

“Len.” He flings the device onto the coffee table and runs to Len’s side. What Len did under Bivolo’s influence is all of his darkest fears and deepest convictions made real. It’s going to shatter him, and Barry feels the strong but erroneous conviction that if he just holds him tightly enough, he can hold him together. “Len, that wasn’t your fault. That was Bivolo, he whammied you—”

“He did the exact fucking thing that’s why I didn’t want him as a Rogue!” Len raises shaking hands to the sides of his head. “I’m a monster, Barry, do you believe me now? And I was afraid of him waking that side of me and he did it to _spite_ me and I…” He folds to his knees. Barry drops with him and pulls him into an embrace. “I hurt you. I hurt our babies. I…how can you even look at me?” 

“That wasn’t you!” 

“That was _exactly_ me!” Len curls further in on himself. Barry has never seen him look this broken. No—he’s seen him look this broken only once, when he put an icicle in Lewis’s heart. “Those were my father’s words coming out of my mouth and that is _exactly_ who I am!” 

“You’re not Lewis.” Barry rocks him slowly back and forth. It’s what works for him, but it only winds Len’s already-tense muscles even tighter. “You’re not. You were whammied and not yourself, and this doesn’t make you—”

“I’ll go.” Len struggles against Barry’s hold. “I’ll go. Don’t make the twins say goodbye to me—it’ll only hurt them more. Tell them I’m a monster, tell them until the hurt goes away. Don’t you _ever_ let them think that what I said was true.” 

Barry makes a final, desperate attempt. “When Bivolo whammied me, I called Caitlin a frigid bitch, Iris a selfish slut, and Cisco—oh, God, I poured out all my internalized transphobia all over him. And I tried to kill my mentor—like, superspeed, really actually kill him. If you’re a monster, what does that make me?” 

Len makes a face like a man who’s just stepped on a land mine and can’t figure a way out. He knows the logic Barry will use against him if he answers the way he undoubtedly wants to, but he’s never going to call Barry a monster. “That wasn’t you.”

“And _that wasn’t you.”_ Barry clings with renewed energy. “You’re the man who made choking a hard limit out of fear for my safety. You’re the man who welcomed the twins’ every ridiculous question when they were two and the only thing they ever said was ‘why?’ You’re the man who dotes on the twins, and handles me with care, and does _everything right_ and this doesn’t undo that.”

“It should!” Len pushes Barry back and forces him to meet his eyes. “Don’t you get it, Scarlet? Someone who does this once will do it again, and the only option is to keep me as far away from you and from them as possible.” 

Barry raises a cautious hand. Len eyes it suspiciously but does nothing to keep him from caressing his face. “If you were acting of your own volition, maybe that would be true. You weren’t, though. That wasn’t you. I know it, and the twins will know it too.” 

“I hurt them,” Len repeats. He sounds numb. If Barry doesn’t do something quickly, he’ll shut down. 

It takes two seconds to dash off a text to Lisa. _All better now. The twins can come home, but I can’t come get them—Len is panicking._ Rather than wait for a reply, he helps Len onto the sofa. 

“Scarlet.” Len’s fingers brush his throat. Barry fights the urge to recoil. He can’t flinch; if he does, Len will take it as proof that he still believes him capable of hurting him. “I could have killed you.”

“Please.” He musters a pseudo-cocky grin. “Without your cold gun? You didn’t stand a chance.”

“I didn’t need the cold gun.” Len pulls away. “All it takes is thinking you can wait it out, it’ll stop if you’re good enough or quiet enough or whatever the hell. If you’d tried to reason with me, I’d have had all the opportunity I needed.”

Barry fights not to remember fingers tight around his throat, the frisson of unwanted fear he felt when Len advanced on him as he lay sprawled on the ground. He could have died. But for his speed, he might have. “That wasn’t you,” he says firmly. “You would never have done that.” 

The door swings open. Barry glances up in time to see Lisa coax the twins inside. “It’s okay, pretty babies,” she coos. “Your Abba is all better now. Your Papa helped him.”

Barry can only imagine how their slow, wary approach must break Len’s heart. Mick is the first to speak. “Abba?” 

“Little Mick.” Len keeps his hands in his lap rather than reach out, although Barry can feel the tension in his shoulders. He wants to embrace the twins, but he’s terrified. “Little Mick, I’m so sorry for what I said. There’s nothing I can do to make that right.”

“You were under control.” Mick squares their jaw. “Like Uncle Hartley’s flute, only angrier. I don’t blame you.” 

Nora buries her face in Lisa’s hip. Barry’s heart breaks for her. She’s always been so sensitive to yelling; to have Len, the one person in her life who’s never raised his voice, suddenly snap at her would have turned her world on its head. 

“Nora,” he coos. “Little Blue, come here.” 

Slowly, she drifts closer to him. She makes a point of going around the coffee table on Barry’s side, giving Len a wide berth. Barry scoops her in his arms. “Did Auntie Lisa explain what happened?”

She nods. “And Uncle Hartley used his flute to make us sleepy, so we could see how hard it is to not be controlled. I just…” She shoots Len a nervous glance. Barry cuddles her closer. He isn’t prepared for her quiet whisper of, “I made Abba angry. I’m a bad Nora who needs to not talk.” 

“No, baby, no.” Barry rocks her slowly side to side. “You didn’t make Abba angry. It was like…like how sometimes we get overstimulated and it makes us angry? And we yell at whoever talks to us, even if they were being sweet.”

Slowly, Nora nods. 

“But it was worse because your Abba was being controlled, like by Uncle Hartley’s flute. He’s so, so sorry he yelled. But.” Barry pulls back to look her in the eyes. “If you need time, Abba will give you time, and I will too.” 

She bites her lower lip. Tears bead on her lashes, and she swipes them away with a too-harsh fist. “I can’t give hugs until I’m not a bad Nora,” she whispers, and Barry’s heart shatters. 

“No, baby, no, you’re not bad. Oh, no, shh, you’re not bad.” 

“No.” Len’s voice catches in his throat. “Nora, no, you were never bad. I was bad, baby—I yelled at you. No, you are _not_ bad.” 

That’s all the reassurance she needs to launch herself into his arms and cling. Len gathers both of the twins close and rocks with them. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “Nothing I said was true. You’re my sweet, sweet twins and I love you both so much. I love all your questions, all your curiosity, and I should never, never have said I didn’t.” 

“That wasn’t you,” Mick says firmly. “We still love you.” 

“I know, baby.” Barry hears the unspoken ‘I wish you didn’t,’ but he doubts the twins will. 

Barry lets Len put the twins to bed, but he lingers nearby in case they decide they don’t feel safe. They’re jumpy, so much so that Nora asks Len to turn on the nightlight, which has stayed unlit for close to two years. Rather than climb up into her bunk, Nora slips into Mick’s and cuddles them. 

“Please?” she whispers. 

“Does Mick mind?” Barry intervenes. Len is in a mood where he’d probably say yes without thinking about it. 

With the nightlight on, he can see Mick wrap their arms around Nora’s shoulders. “Please?” they beg. 

“Yes.” Len kneels beside the bed and asks, “May I give you kisses?” 

The twins share a glance. They must reach an unspoken consensus, because Mick says, “Not tonight, Abba.” 

Len nods and steps away. Barry takes a turn kneeling beside the bed. “What happened tonight was scary,” he says. “It doesn’t matter that a meta caused it, it was scary. And it’s okay to need to take your time.” He pets Mick’s curls, Nora’s cheek. They lean into his touch in a way they didn’t for Len. Just as well Mick-the-elder apprehended Bivolo so quickly, he muses—if first Len, then Barry, was rage-whammied, the twins’ trust in their family would be forever shattered. As it is, they’ll need time. Barry only fears that they won’t let themselves have it out of worry for Len. “It’s not your job to look after your Abba or me. You can take all the time you need.” 

“But Abba was hurt,” Mick says. 

“He was,” Barry agrees. “And all the Rogues and I will take care of him. But whether he meant to or not, he hurt you, and it’s okay to need time.” 

Nora glances over Barry’s shoulder. “I love him.” 

“I know that, and your Abba does, too.” In fact, if Barry knows Len at all, the twins forgiving him so easily will make him feel worse. “If you have to take time, it doesn’t mean you don’t love him. It just means you’re looking out for yourself, and that’s what he and I both want you to do.” He kisses their cheeks. “Sleep well. If you need anything in the night, call for me or come find me. I’ll be here in a flash.” 

That gets a cautious little giggle from both of them. Barry fusses with the blankets, gives them each another kiss, and leaves the room with a final, “I love you.” When he steps out into the living room, Len and Lisa are curled on the sofa. 

“I was just like him,” Len whispers. “As heartless, as cruel. I don’t deserve their forgiveness, but I know they’ll give it because of how often I forgave…how long it took me to…”

“If this becomes a pattern, I’ll kill you.” Lisa’s tone is matter-of-fact. Barry almost protests, but it strikes him that Len won’t rest until he gets a promise like that from _someone._ Best that it come from Lisa, who more than anyone can judge whether Len truly is anything like Lewis. “But Lenny, that wasn’t your fault, any more than it was Mark’s fault with the sex-whammy incident, or Rosa’s fault when that creep at the duck pond played with her like a puppet. That was on Bivolo, and him alone.” 

“But then why did I sound just like him?” It’s a piteous, brokenhearted whisper. “Why would I do that if that side of me hadn’t always been there?” 

“You did that because you didn’t have a pattern.” Barry isn’t sure he’s supposed to speak, but he can’t keep quiet. Both of them look up at him—Lisa in confusion, Len in uncharacteristic, too-vulnerable hope. Barry steps slowly to his side, kneels down, and pets his cheek. “You don’t get angry. Or, I mean, you do—I remember how you looked at Thawne—but that was protective rage, it wasn’t the directionless anger Bivolo inspires. You keep your cool, even when you’re frustrated, and yes that pun was deliberate.”

Len musters a weak smile. “I take your point.”

“So you were being pushed into a feeling that you had no personal context for, and your brain latched onto the next-best thing—the times you remembered seeing it play out.” Barry rubs gentle fingertips against Len’s scalp. “The fact that you mimicked Lewis doesn’t mean you’re anything like him. It means you’ve gone to such lengths to _not_ be like him that you literally didn’t have your own pattern for how to just be angry.” 

“That I can agree with, Lenny.” Lisa lays her head on his shoulder. “You shut down anger even more quickly than other emotions, which says something.”

That evokes another weak chuckle. "Then why couldn’t I shut this down?”

“You tried.” Barry can’t let him believe that he was too weak to fight. “Bivolo’s whammies usually hit hard and last for a couple of minutes—basically until you burn out the anger. If you try to fight it, it just simmers and builds until you explode. That’s what happened to you. It would actually have been better if you’d let it out at STAR Labs, but you fought it because you’re used to fighting it. And I don’t blame you for fighting it, it just wasn’t something you could win.”

Len glances toward the twins’ room. The warm glow of the nightlight is just visible under the door. “I hurt them.”

“That wasn’t you,” Barry and Lisa say in unison. Lisa continues, “Trust me, Lenny. Our father never felt any kind of remorse. The fact that you’re worried on the twins’ behalf shows how completely unlike him you are.”

“What if I hurt them again?” 

“Then I kill you.” Lisa’s voice is steady, but pain flickers in her eyes. She’s making this promise on Len’s behalf—he has to know that. “But Lenny, I don’t believe you will. They don’t either—they’re just trying to make sense of what happened.”

Len drags his sleeve across his face. “I should let you get back to the Rogues.” 

“After this?” In a quiet voice, she admits, “I’m going to go see Cisco. There’s…there’s stuff I need to talk through with him.”

Len clasps her hand. “I’m so, so sorry, Lise. I didn’t even think—the memories this must have brought up for you…”

“It’s not your fault,” she says again. “The fact that my memories aren’t worse is thanks to you. I just…I need someone who’ll listen, and Cisco is good at that.” 

Barry knows better than to ask for a hug. She’s too much like Len to want to be touched while she’s upset. “Thank you for taking care of the twins.”

She nods. “Take care of my brother, Barry.” 

“Always.” 

After Lisa leaves, Barry slips into her spot on the sofa. Without any coaxing, Len curls into his arms and rests his forehead on Barry’s shoulder. It’s such a sweet, vulnerable move that Barry’s heart shatters. If he encounters Bivolo after this, he might be a bit rougher than usual on Len’s behalf. “Len, I…”

“You made your points earlier, Scarlet. I don’t…really believe you, but they made sense.” He lets out a weary little sound, not quite a sob. “Can we go to bed?”

It won’t be the reprieve Len needs; he’s too prone to nightmares. Still, Barry imagines anything is better than the way he so clearly blames himself. “Yes. Come here with me.”

They make their way to bed. Barry curls on his side. Rather than press against Len and fall asleep, he pulls him close and cuddles him. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you and I don’t blame you.” 

There’s a too-long stretch of silence before he replies, “I love you too, Scarlet.” Barry could speak to that silence—it’s too heavy with self-loathing to ignore—but it won’t do Len any good right now. He needs to rest before he can let himself accept Barry and the twins’ forgiveness. 

“Just sleep,” he coaxes. “I’ll be here.”


End file.
